[OUTDATED] Chris Rosato's Story.

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Dear survivors, if you're reading this then that means you've found my journal, the following will contain my story, and everything that has happened since I landed in Chernarus.

Entry 1

Day of Arrival

My name is Chris Rosato, I was sent in with the hazmats after Zelenogorsk and South Zagoria fell to the infected, and was quarantined. I had no clue what we were facing, even though I had been briefed beforehand. Briefing is useless when nobody knows who the enemy is, or how they operate. Little did I know that my enemy was something that was already dead to begin with. How do you kill something that's already dead? That's the question I kept asking myself as our chopper touched down in the middle of a field.

I was part of a twenty man team, complete with fifteen scientists, and five guards. I was one of the guards. Our hazmat guys were part of the CDC (Center for disease control). Each hazmat guy wore a bright yellow hazardous materials suit, complete with a respirator to keep any bad air out, and various medical equipment. Myself and the other four guards had on typical ESU gear, standard issue M4A1 rifles, and a gas mask to filter out the pathogens in the air. We looked pretty badass, but none of that mattered, because it was no match for what was about to happen.

The CDF had already set up medical tents, and a security checkpoint where they could check refugees for any symptoms of the virus, and separate them from the healthy uninfected survivors. We walked toward our commanding officer, standing in the tent. Along the way, it was heartbreaking to see mothers and fathers taken from their children because one of them may have been infected. One man who appeared to be infected tried to grab his son from the arms of a CDF soldier, and run. Not risking anything, he was shot in the back by a guard in a tower, and fell, dropping his young son hard on the ground. He wrenched around on the ground for about ten seconds and then his movements ceased. A few hazmats rushed over and covered his body with a sheet, to keep anyone from seeing it.

As we entered the tent, we were given our orders, to enter the south west sector of Chernogorsk, and evacuate everyone and escort them to the checkpoint. Seemed easy enough for us, as we were given some assistance from the CDF soldiers. After that, we loaded into some UN provided convoy jeeps, and headed for the Southwest sector of the city. Along the way, the things we saw were like scenes out of a movie. Cars on fire ,dead bodies left and right, broken bits of glass and rubble littered the road. It was horrifying. We pulled up to a neighborhood, and exited our jeeps, one by one.

Before we even hit the first house, a transmission radioed in from one of the other evac teams nearby, it was mostly static, but this is what I remember it sounding like.

The transmission fell silent for just a single moment, when all of a sudden there was a huge explosion from a few blocks away. Nobody was sure what caused it. As we stood there in the road, there was silence. That was when one of our hazmats was tackled from behind by an infected man who burst through the front door of a home. I raised my weapon and shot the infected man in the temple as he thrashed the hazmat guy around. He had completely ripped open his suit, exposing his bleeding chest.

Not a moment was wasted, everyone scattered, I ran to one of the jeeps, and the driver took off, tires screeching, as the infected began bursting out of the homes in a swarm. Following the noise they heard. There were dozens of them, seemingly unstoppable. I climbed into the back seat of the jeep, and began firing my weapon out the back windscreen, hoping to drop a few of the infected. We rounded a corner, and lost sight of the infected, passing by an oil tanker that was set ablaze by some of the infected, there were charred bodies lying on the ground,and some people rolling on the ground completely engulfed in flames. It was gruesome.

We arrived back at the tent, and all the noise had attracted some of the infected, they began to swarm the checkpoint and rip open the barricades. I had no idea what was happening, people were scattering everywhere screaming and trying to find their loved ones, when out of corner of my eye, through the chaos I saw a young boy, no older than 8 or 9 years old hiding under a desk, no parents in sight. He was a refugee boy, and I didn't speak any Russian, but this boy was in danger. I rushed over and held out my hand, he took it, and I picked him up and ran for one of the jeeps outside the back of the tent. The checkpoint was a mess, the gunshots and screaming were constant, I covered the boy's ears and told him to close his eyes, even though I knew he probably couldn't understand me, I placed him in the passenger seat of the jeep.

As I walked around to the drivers seat, a hand reached out and grabbed my throat, and took me to the ground. I began kicking and squirming trying to get the person off me. The impact had knocked my gasmask over my eyes so I could not see who was attacking me. I couldn't breathe, and this person needed to be stopped, so I drew my knife from my chest pouch, and began furiously stabbing and thrusting at my attacker. Their grip weakened, and they slumped on top of me. I could not feel them breathing. So, I pushed the body off of me and stood up, taking off my gasmask, feeling the cool breeze on my face.

I looked down, and saw that it was not one of the infected who attacked me, but just a desperate refugee who wanted to escape. I felt bad for killing him, but it was either me or him, and I did not want any harm to come to the boy I had saved. I looked inside the jeep, and the boy was sitting inside, crying, worry was on his face. I did not know how to calm him down, so I reached into my pocket and removed a candy bar I was saving for later in the day. He needed it more than I did, so i held it out, and he took it, smiling. That was the first smile I had seen all day. It made me happy.

With no time to waste, I got into the jeep, and got the key from the sun visor. I started the engine, put the jeep in drive, and took off. There were so many infected that were closing in from all the gunshots, and there was no way to avoid them. I started hitting them, left and right, and the jeep was having trouble keeping up with the stress of running over that many infected. The car began sliding from hitting all the guts from the rotting corpses and infected that would get in the way of my path. I lost control of the jeep, and we slid headfirst into a guardrail.

The impact must have knocked me out cold, because I awoke, my vision blurred. All I could make out was the smoke coming from the engine of the smashed up jeep, and the blood on the windshield. I grabbed my head, as it was in so much pain, it felt like I had been shot. I tried opening the door, and ended up having to smash the window with my feet, and climbing out. When I had climbed out of the window, my vision had cleared and I was amazed at the fact that there were no infected around, and that it was dead quiet. My face was covered in blood from a cut on my forehead. I took out a bandage from my pouch, and wrapped my head, in an effort to stop the bleeding.

I surveyed the crash site, looking for any scattered gear, when I remembered that I was with the little boy. I ran over to the other side of the jeep, and opened the door, but he was nowhere to be found. I began to panic, what if the infected had got him, or he ran off into the wilderness. I stepped back from the jeep, hands shaking with worry. It was my job to protect him, where could he have gone to? That's when I saw it....the body of the young boy, propelled at least 15 feet from the jeep, mangled and nearly unrecognizable. My heart sank into my stomach, and I immediately felt sick, falling to my knees.

It turns out the impact had thrown him out the front windshield, which slammed his body against a tree, taking some of the bark off it. The boy's body fell into a bush, and rolled out onto the ground. I nearly vomited at how gruesome it was, I looked away, and told myself not to look back. I had not felt that sad in my entire life. That boy looked up to me, even for the brief few minutes we were together, he told himself to trust me and that I would protect him, and I failed. I knew I had to keep moving, so I stood up and looked for my weapon in the truck, but it had been broken in the crash. I threw the broken M4 to the ground and screamed in agony at what was happening around me. I had nothing, no weapons, no food, and no hope left. So I began to walk down the road, which leads me to finding out what will happen to me next, if you're reading this, then please know that I am a survivor, and that I will not stop until every infected or evil human being in this wasteland is dead.

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I have recently changed my story. My character is now a Hospital Psychiatrist and has a part time job as a Nursing Assistant. I feel that since I joined, there are a LOT of military or militant type characters around, and it seems unrealistic that everyone is trained to use weapons and become this total badass gunslinging mercenary.

My new character, under the same name, will not be combat efficient, but will wear medical scrubs, and a lab coat, identifying him as a nurse/medically able person. The character will carry only a glock 9mm pistol for protection, but has never used it, and is quite afraid to.